


Meet Me as a Citizen - Russia and the Child in the Street

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 14:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling lonely and dejected, Russia didn't want to return home. In his wanderings, he meets someone who doesn't treat him like he's a monster and in turn, shows a lonely child how to be a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Me as a Citizen - Russia and the Child in the Street

Some days, he was Russia, a large, cold country. They were terrified of him, they hated him, they talked about him behind his back, and he knew it. He tried to push out the loneliness, the sadness, the despair. "It's alright," he'd reassure himself, "one day, it'll all be better." In truth, he was what one would call a simpleton, and a childish one at that, but he wasn't stupid. His mind worked like a mousetrap, just not like everyone else's.

He never had the chance to learn like others. He had been isolated, with only his sisters, and his youth had been tumultuous. They lived to survive, civility and sociality were never as important. As a young man, he had tried to learn to fit in, only to fall on his face over and again. Now, everyone remembered only his mistakes, his short comings, his bad moments.

Most days, he was Ivan though, at least right now. After losing everyone, he had almost no choice but to live as a human, and it was comfortable. As Ivan, no one looked to him as a monster who caused so much grief for those he cared about, no one called him 'the commie', no one related him to his history. He was the young man down the street, across the block, the one they liked for his cheery and open demeanor. Little did they know it was really a mask that he had worn for so long, on the good days, he could barely remember he wasn't the goofy kid. Of course, no one liked Russia, everyone loved Vanya.

He had been to China's house, trying to get him to talk to him, only to be threatened by South Korea for a reason he couldn't understand. Why was that little boy there anyway? What reason did he have for being at China's house, and why didn't he want him there? The Korean hated him and he didn't know why, yet was afraid of him, just like everyone else. Russia was just trying to look in the window to see if anyone was home…and that boy shrieked at him, shakily keeping his distance, and had run when he was finished screaming. His feelings hurt, Russia had left too, maybe he just was unwanted…everywhere. They probably all went to bed every night praying that he would just…disappear, didn't they? It wasn't his fault, right? Why did no one like him?

The rejection didn't leave him, and he walked back through the streets of his city kicking pebbles in his loneliness. He didn't want to go back home now. At home, he had nothing. There was no one there anymore to tell him it would all be okay, or just to reassure him with their presence. The emptiness of that house only reminded him that they never loved him, they left as soon as they could. No, he'd just have to wander the streets, because out here, he was just another person, part of a crowd, not alone. Maybe no one out here knew him, but just their presence would be enough.

Children, playing in a side street. They were having fun, even with the wind blowing, an ominous sign of a fast approaching winter. They always made him smile. Such innocent faces, unaware of the world's true colors yet. He stopped to watch the three young ones for a little while.

Something dropped with a crash, the smallest of the children let out a scream, half a cry, as the other two took off in a run. The little one collapsed to the street in a sort of tantrum, crying over a broken toy. As he was completely wrapped in his fit, he didn't notice Ivan inching closer. The tall man knelt down beside the child, picking up the toy fragments. A nesting doll, and a very elegant one at that.

"What happened, child?"

The boy was slightly startled, jumping a little at the sudden voice. "Um… It fell. And broke." He picked up some other fragments of the doll.

"Where did the other children go?"

The boy, maybe nine years old, if that, traced patterns in the sand, face dropped. "They ran away… Some times I get mad, and I hit them before. They didn't want to be hit. But it was my fault the doll broke, I dropped it."

"They're afraid of you, yes?" The man reached out, resting his hand comfortingly on the small shoulder.

"Yes… I don't mean to do bad things…"

"I know what you mean." He smiled sadly, ruffling the ash brown hair a little. "I'm Vanya, what's your name?"

"Anatoliy," he said as he looked up at the stranger for the first time.

Ivan turned his attention back to the broken doll. "It was a fine one, wasn't it?"

"It was my grandmother's. I can't believe I let it die like that."

"Hey… I'll get you a new one, okay? Would you meet me back here in three days?"

"Uh… Mother says we shouldn't meet with strangers…" The boy stood up, backing away a little upon realizing his words.

"Now, now, I'm no stranger. I'm only a friend you've just met. I won't hurt you, Tolya."

"O…kay." The child returned the rest of the broken pieces to the man's large hand, quickly wrapping his arms around his legs, before running away.

* * *

Exactly three days later, to the hour and minute of their last meeting, two Russians, one young and small, the other large and infinitely aged, met on that side street. Ivan came with a box far too large to hold a normal matryoshka, handing it to the nervous child. As he opened it, he found three sets of dolls, brilliantly painted and intricately detailed.

"For you, and for your two friends," Ivan explained. "Enjoy them, live a happy life, and never be afraid, Tolya." Kneeling down, he tightly hugged the child, his child, tears softly running down his cheeks. "You'll make me proud, yes?


End file.
